


A Dragon’s Heart

by Anne_Fairchild



Series: Dragon Series [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild Domestic Violence, Past Child Abuse, dysfunctional sex, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 14:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15932591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Bashir’s past begins to unexpectedly affect his relationship with Garak. When he turns to someone else for advice, it sets off a chain of unhappy events.





	A Dragon’s Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written concurrent with the show as it aired so it doesn’t conform to all later aired canon re either character’s pasts. Past child abuse is referenced and there is one description of mild physical abuse. Other warnings may apply but that would spoil the story. Nothing violently abusive though.

Commander Ben Sisko stood across the desk from his chief medical officer, noting the dark shadows under red-rimmed eyes as well as a strained, hoarse quality to the normally soft voice. Here was visual confirmation of what the doctor's Bajoran assistants had related to Major Kira, and she had in turn told Sisko; Bashir was at the point of collapse.

"With all due respect Commander, this is a nasty flu epidemic. The infirmary is still half full. Besides, my staff are as tired as I am." The words echoed in Bashir's head and seemed strangely disconnected, as if he were hearing himself via a distant subspace channel.

"Your concern is noted and appreciated, Doctor. However, you are still relieved of duty for the next 24 hours. I suggest you spend most of that time sleeping," the commander insisted.

“Yes, sir," Bashir acknowledged with a guilty sense of relief as Sisko departed.

He could, of course, retire to his nearby quarters for the much-needed sleep. But his quarters, while reasonably comfortable, were sterile and lonely. He knew where he wanted to be. With a few instructions to his Bajoran nurse, the doctor walked out of the infirmary and headed in the direction of the Promenade.

Garak. He hadn't seen his Cardassian lover in days, although it felt like weeks. He wanted the warmth and comfort of the rooms above the tailor's shop, which seemed more like home to him than anywhere he'd lived in years. More than the place, Julian missed the man himself, the tender giant who provided an ear for listening and a shoulder to lean on. He missed the man with whom he shared the joy of endless loveplay on lazy days, culminating in the fire which only Garak roused in him.

Julian had been terribly lonely since he'd graduated from Starfleet Academy, his last months there a nightmare of betrayal by his lover. Sinjon had turned out to be a callow impostor who had been bought off by Bashir's domineering, disapproving father. There had been relief with the posting to DS9, but the achievement had been hollow without Sinjon.

He supposed he'd been subconsciously searching for someone. Still, he'd been taken by surprise at the strength of his feelings for Garak. He'd tried to make himself believe it was just a fascination with the man, but it didn't take long before he knew it was more than that. When Garak approached him in Quark's one memorable night not long after the removal of the malfunctioning implant, Bashir didn't have to think too deeply about his decision to go with him.

Julian's steps slowed as he walked the last few yards to the door of the tailor's shop. Garak looked up as the door opened. His angular face broke into a warm smile as he saw who his customer was, but the expression turned to concern as he studied the tall, thin young man who had become the being he loved more than anything else in his world.

"You look terrible. Come upstairs with me," he coaxed, lowering the shade and putting the 'Closed' sign in the shop window.

"It isn't even midday. You shouldn't be closing the shop because of me," Bashir protested half-heartedly, although it was just what he'd hoped.

"Nevertheless I am closing, and you're going to bed. Alone," Garak smiled wryly, pushing the younger man up the stairs before him.

Once in the cozy suite of rooms, exhaustion overtook Bashir. He allowed Garak to lead him into the bedroom, melting into the big bed with a groan of weariness. He was hardly aware that he was being undressed until he was surrounded by the softness of sheets against his bare skin. Before sleep claimed him he attempted to speak, to catch up on the hours together the two had missed. The older man put a gentle finger to the lips he had kissed countless times until they were swollen with passion.

"Shush now, and go to sleep," Garak chided, stroking wayward strands of dark hair. Julian turned his face towards the hand in silent plea, and the stroking continued until the green-gold eyes closed and the mouth relaxed, lips parting in a sigh of contentment. Garak took his hand away, but a frown creased his lover's brow so he resumed the caress. After several minutes he paused and this time there was no reaction, so he rose and went into the outer room.

Garak had missed the younger man's gentle humor, the satisfaction of their lovemaking and the comfortable weight of the relaxed body which twined with him afterwards. He had been worried about Julian and was relieved to have him near enough to watch over. Perhaps he would take the opportunity for a nap as well; he had been more than usually tired the past couple of days, and somehow out of sorts. He couldn't pinpoint the cause or even the symptoms; maybe it was just the lack of Julian. He stretched out on the sofa and closed his eyes.  
  
                                                                           ***

Garak sat up stiffly, calling for the time. He had been asleep for six hours. He still felt tired, and when he rubbed his eyes a grittiness remained which puzzled him, but he shrugged off the annoyance. There was silence from the bedroom. He walked to the doorway to see Julian apparently asleep, the bed a mess with the covers twisted, one bare leg dangling over the edge. Garak smiled. It was indeed an adventure to actually sleep with the doctor on his restless nights. He turned away, but a slight noise stopped him, and then a sleepy voice.

"C'mere." Garak came to stand over the bed, straightening the bedclothes properly.

"Garak - come down _here_ ,” Julian repeated softly, somewhat petulantly, his meaning unmistakable. The tailor smiled, removing his clothes and stretching out beside Bashir.

  
"I hope you don't come to expect this sort of service all the time," Garak chuckled, kneading his neck, manipulating slowly down the supple spine. A softly snorted 'mmmmmphh' told him that Julian appreciated the attention.

"Missed you," he murmured, after a few minutes turning towards Garak, resting his head on a broad shoulder and relaxing further into his partner's body heat.

"As I have missed you," Garak acknowledged, pressing his lips against a warm forehead. Love was not a word which had as yet passed freely between them, but neither of them hesitated to demonstrate their feelings when they were alone. From the beginning their bodies had communicated more effectively than mere words, and to be deprived of each other's company for the past days had been difficult.

"Warm. Comfortable," Bashir sighed, cuddling against the Cardassian's expansive chest. Garak's heart spasmed at his lover's admission of contentment. He continued to marvel that this young, beautiful and delightfully affectionate creature desired him.

"I'm glad," he murmured, one hand caressing Bashir's slender, pliant frame from the base of his skull to the tip of his spine, pulling him as close as possible. Chest to chest, belly to belly and penis to penis, they lay for some minutes. Neither spoke, seeming content at the skin to skin contact, drowsing in the rhythm of each other's breathing. Finally, Bashir initiated a slow movement against Garak, who could feel the younger man's cock begin to swell, pressing against his groin. Garak's hips moved lazily in response.

"How can you possibly have the energy?" he chuckled in Bashir's ear.

"I need you so much. Only you do this me. Only you," Bashir repeated huskily. He smiled, still as fascinated with Garak's stocky, muscular, alien body as he had been the first time they made love. With Garak, he didn't think of it as just having sex, it was making love and had never been anything else. His palms smoothed up over muscular thighs, hips and ridged abdomen and chest before resting on broad shoulders as he leaned close and licked up the wide indentation in the middle of the tailor's forehead. Garak groaned.

"My God, I keep finding erogenous zones. Is there no end to them?" Julian teased.

"When you are doing the searching, apparently not," the Cardassian admitted, smiling. One hand slid to his own semi-erect penis in a reflex gesture.

"Ah, yes - caress yourself for me, Garak," Bashir murmured, beguiling. Suddenly aware, the tailor's hand jerked away guiltily.

"No! I can't," he muttered, feeling clumsy and slightly appalled at the suggestion.

“Of course you can, whyever not? I love to watch you. I love to see you growing bigger, and harder. I want to see what you do to yourself so I can do it to you later," Julian breathed, his voice thick with desire.

Garak closed his eyes. The words unexpectedly brought to mind the trial on Bajor and the ugly, perverted insinuations and questioning of the tribunal. They had taken an act which had provided comfort and harmed no one, and twisted it into something vulgar. Parvat had not survived, but he was still here. Was this his destiny then, this sensual and outrageously sexy young human to whom he had become so addicted?

"I love looking at you, at every part of you. It gives me such pleasure to see your body. It excites me. Do it for me," Bashir asked softly, reaching out to rub a neck ridge.

Garak's eyes opened, and he looked into Julian's. Of course, the young man didn't understand the memories his words brought. In some ways, he was quite innocent. He didn't realize how much his very ingenuousness made Garak want to obey him. There was so little cunning in his loveplay and such open desire that Garak could not resist him.

“This is not something which I am accustomed to doing with an audience. It's not easy for me," Garak confessed, his hand reluctantly returning to his semi-engorged organ.

Julian smiled encouragement, his eyes soft. Garak capitulated. He began to stroke himself, his eyes on Bashir.  
  
Julian watched his lover with a combination of curiosity and lust, murmuring aloud words of both and only half aware that he was tending to his own erection as he did so. Garak, however, had a clear view of his uninhibited partner, and Julian's obvious excitement in turn aroused him further. Perhaps he did understand; Julian felt the same pleasure watching him that he received from seeing the young man's arousal. There was no denying that it pleased him to watch Julian grow hard thinking of him.

Smiling, Julian pushed his lover onto his back and burrowed between powerful thighs. He adored the smell of Garak, the man's own woodsmoke odor mixed indelibly in Bashir's mind with the exotic, spicy lubricant Garak used. He inhaled deeply before tonguing the hairless balls, then drew a moist line up the thickening shaft and around the lip of the fat, mushroomed head. His hand also provided its own encouragement, the dragon-scales which ran the length of the impressive erection melting like butter at his touch.

From his first glimpse of the Cardassian's exotic anatomy, his lover had been his 'Dragon', for to Julian he was truly a creature such as dreams are made on. He heard Garak moan, and felt the organ in his hand take on a life of its own as he concentrated on bringing him to completion. There should be a special reward for the obviously difficult favor he had requested, and he intended to provide it.

Julian approached the rock-hard pillar as if it were a ten course banquet and he was starving. He used all his skill to excite Garak. He was gratified by the normally stoic man's soft groans and half-stifled cries of satisfaction. Because of the Cardassian's size it was difficult to take the entire organ in his mouth, so at the last he concentrated on the glans, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive slit, pleased at the guttural, helpless gasps issuing from Garak.

At the first involuntary movements which signaled impending ejaculation, Bashir encased as much of the shaft as he was able and sucked hard, rewarded with a loud sob, and at the back of his throat a prolonged gush of hot liquid.

It took Garak some moments to recover speech, his breathing still labored, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body.

“Julian," he sighed, words inadequate. He shifted his body, moving up level with Bashir, caressing his face with hot, trembling fingers. Garak brought his mouth down possessively on Julian's, not waiting for the invitation before his tongue invaded. He explored ruthlessly, his intent to build the same sort of fire his lover had created in him.

Bashir's fingers twisted in Garak's thick dark hair, destroying its military precision. He rubbed against Garak, whimpering with pleasure and need. His entire body was a tactile playground, a wonderland of feelings and sensations. He blossomed under the onslaught of his partner's hands and mouth.

Garak sucked at Julian's earlobe, smiling at the shudder which ran through the body beneath him. His mouth moved in minute increments down the jawline to the base of the throat, swabbing delicately at the pulse point. He massaged the muscles running from the neck into the tops of the shoulders, moving in large, slow circles. He brushed his palms lightly over pectoral muscles, teasing the dark brown nipples just enough to madden before they moved on to ribs, finally encircling the waist, pulling the slim body against him. Garak thrilled at feeling the hot tumescence he had produced. Bashir groaned unintelligibly, yet his body spoke volumes.

"What is it? What do you want, Julian?" Garak whispered, nipping an earlobe.

"Kiss me. Lick me. Suck me," Julian breathed, his voice plaintive and needful, strained with the ill-concealed undertone of lust that Garak found so arousing.

"Where? Here?" Garak asked, biting the top of a shoulder hard enough to dent the soft skin and then sucking the flesh into his mouth, his tongue bathing the 'wound'. Bashir whimpered again, more demanding, still inarticulate. Drawing the limb out of the way, Garak nuzzled under Julian's arm. He was amazed at how quickly his body was again responding to the younger man. He nipped at the sparse, silky hairs, sponging the now-exposed recess, and was rewarded with a soft murmur of surprise followed by an audible sigh

“I'm getting closer, you say? Ah - here?" he questioned with a smile, drawing a wet ring around one cocoa-colored tit before flicking his tongue rapidly over the nipple, which expanded visibly.

“Ahh, yessss - please," Julian gasped. Garak obliged, licking and sucking both buttons enthusiastically in turn, gentle in holding the writhing body which responded so eloquently to his ministrations.

"Feels so good," Bashir moaned, his hands tenderly caressing the head of the man who pleasured him, stroking Garak's hair and neck, his body bowing with delight at his touch.

Gradually Garak moved lower, kissing and licking over ticklish ribs. His hands held Julian's body fast as he laved across the flat stomach, dipping his tongue into Bashir's navel. He nuzzled into the softly curled pubic hair which seemed so exotic to the Cardassian, who was without body hair. Garak brushed blunt fingers lightly over the small forest at first and then explored further, sucking at the sensitive area, experimentally pulling on the soft hairs with his teeth.

"That feels - ah! Do it again," Julian encouraged. His body felt weightless as Garak moved his limbs this way and that, the better to gain intimate access.

Garak was as skilled in fulfilling his desires as if they had been lovers for centuries, Julian thought as he thrust up eagerly into the Cardassian's hot mouth, grinding his hips with greater speed as the delicious friction increased. One hand fondled his testicles, carefully gauging their owner's readiness to discharge. God, yes! He wanted only Garak to touch him like that.

Julian felt a blunt fingertip caress the opening to his body and he groaned with lust, and vivid memory of other nights. His balls tightened involuntarily, and when the finger thrust inside he exploded with a violence which surprised both of them. The last thing he remembered was the velvet feel of Garak's lips sucking him dry and the thick digit lodged within him.

  
                                                                               ***

Garak smiled down at Julian, his face a study in tenderness.

"Well, I must have done something right."

"I don't think 'right' quite covers that experience," Bashir smiled, reaching up to pull Garak down for a lazy, companionable kiss on the lips.

"Why don't you take a shower while I get you something to eat. I can see that you're going to fall asleep again, and I want to be certain you're fed before that happens."

" 'm not hungry. Wouldn't know what - "

"Food, nonetheless," Garak insisted. He went into the adjoining room, cleaned himself quickly, and then turned on the water. The Cardassian had always been content with a simple sonic shower but he knew that Julian preferred water, and he'd happily paid Quark an exorbitant sum to install the necessary equipment. He considered himself amply rewarded, as some of their most intimate evenings had begun in the steaming water. He put out a towel, and then returned to pull a reluctant Bashir out of bed and guide him into the room.

"I'll have dinner ready by the time you're through, and then you can go back to sleep," Garak promised. A still groggy Bashir planted a kiss on his nose.

" 'kay," he smiled, stepping into the warm water. He knew the shower had been a gift of love as much as a ring or any other token. The water felt wonderful, but Bashir was convinced that it was the loving which had rejuvenated him more than the sleep or the shower. He felt wide awake, energized as the soothing rivulets ran from head to toes, but he knew that Garak was right; he did need to eat something, and he would probably fall asleep again soon enough. If they were lucky the epidemic was winding down, and life would go back to 'normal' on DS9.

Garak returned carrying a container of Varellian stew, which the computer informed him Dr. Bashir had ordered for one of his last meals. Garak himself was not hungry, but he was determined that Julian would be fed and rested when he returned to the infirmary. Strange that he was still tired; perhaps it was too much sleep in the middle of the day. He also had a nagging headache, which was unusual. He'd had no headaches at all since Julian had removed the wire given to him by Enabran Tain and the Obsidian order. If his thoughts weren't concentrated on the doctor, the sudden odd constellation of symptoms might have concerned him; instead, he chose to ignore them.

When he reached the top of the stairs he saw Julian sitting on the sofa wrapped in a comfortable robe, bare legs exposed where they rested on the table. His hair was damp from the shower and a few springy curls fell onto his forehead, making him look quite young, and utterly desirable. Garak put the food on the table and turned to Julian with a rueful smile.

“Sometimes I wonder if you realize the effect you have on me. If I wasn't so tired, I'd have you again, right here," he growled softly, turning the eager face to his. In mock retaliation against what he considered one of Bashir's more irritating habits, he made a deliberate shambles of his young lover's slippery coif with blunt fingers, teasing, taking mock possession before bending to nibble on willing lips.

Julian placed his lover's hands inside his robe, arcing against the hot palms pressed against his chest, intending to leave Garak in no doubt as to his own feelings. However, Garak's head soon came to rest on Bashir's collarbone and his hands slipped to Bashir's waist, stilled. Julian looked down then, frowning.

"Elim, are you all right?" he asked, reaching out a hand to Garak's wrist, trying to feel a pulse. Garak pulled back peevishly.

"I'm perfectly fine. I've never been ill. I've been spending long hours in the shop trying to finish a large order for the Iylarite ambassador and his staff and I'm tired. Do eat your dinner," Garak sighed, uneasy at the close inspection. He was beginning to suspect that something was indeed wrong, but he was not going to involve his weary lover tonight. Whatever it was, he would survive until tomorrow.

"All right, my prickly Cardassian. What are you eating?" Bashir asked, digging into the bowl of stew.

"I'm not hungry. I had eaten just before you came home," Garak lied. Julian failed to hear the lie, but was warmed at the casual acknowledgement. This certainly was home. He stayed here most nights because he did not want to leave either his lover's bed or his company. He finished his meal, curling up against Garak with a contented sigh.

It had become apparent early in their relationship that Bashir enjoyed being held and petted as much as he enjoyed sex, and he was generous with Garak in kind. There was scant physical contact in Cardassian culture, whether it was between parent and child or between lovers. With Garak's previous partners there had been only sex, without the easy physical tenderness which Julian gave as openly as he received. The younger man seemed to understand that his Cardassian had different needs.

Garak was beginning to feel quite lightheaded, yet his limbs were heavy. He knew he had to get Julian in bed before they both fell asleep on the sofa. Gently, he sat the doctor up and guided him back to bed. The drowsy young man allowed himself to be tucked into bed, showing no surprise that Garak climbed in beside him and turned out the light at the relatively early hour. Garak was colder than usual, and in spite of the bedclothes he pulled Julian into his arms for warmth much as he would have done with an extra blanket. Bashir burrowed into his embrace like a hibernating mammal, asleep in moments.  
  
                                                                             ***  
  
Julian woke abruptly as his bedmate thrust an arm across his face, muttering. He called for the time, and found that his 24 hours off duty were nearly over. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up with a sigh

"Time to get up, sleeping beauty," he smiled, nudging his partner none too gently in the ribs. Garak's response was to moan and roll away from him, his head covered by the pillow. Julian reached out to a bare shoulder and was surprised at the heat which radiated from it. He'd grown accustomed to the Cardassian's warmer than human body temperature, but this was different.

"Dragon, what's the matter?" he asked. Receiving no answer, he stood and moved to the other side of the bed, removing the pillow. Garak's face was shiny with sweat, yet he shivered when Bashir pulled the bedclothes away. Although Julian didn't have much hands-on experience with sick Cardassians, it was obvious that Garak was not well. His color was different than Julian had ever seen it, a sort of waxy gray-green, and his  
eyes remained closed.

"Elim - can you hear me? Please, open your eyes," Julian asked softly, stroking the bumpy forehead. The Cardassian struggled to oblige, but had barely managed when an odd look seized him and he made an effort to rise. Before Bashir realized what was about to happen Garak was sick, the retching sudden and violent. Julian did his best to support him, but the spasms were vicious. When they subsided at last, he lay back in the bed shivering and gasping for breath. The attack had taken him by surprise and its speed and strength had frightened him. Bashir went into the next room and came back with wet towels, cleaning and he hoped soothing the miserable Garak, who made vague sounds of distress.

“You should feel a little better, for a while at least. You’re not much used to this, are you?," Julian commiserated, stroking the sweat-soaked hair at the Cardassian's temple. Garak swallowed experimentally, making a face at the sour taste in his mouth.

"I told you, I've never been ill. So far, I don't care for it much." The voice was weak. Bashir was shocked at Garak's words. Apparently, he had literally never experienced the misery of an illness before.

“I'm sorry. If it's any consolation you're going to feel like absolute hell for at least a week but you'll survive, everyone else has," Bashir smiled encouragingly.

At the same time, a nasty little voice was telling him things he didn't want to remember. He knew how Terran, Bajoran and Ferengi patients reacted to this particular virus, but he actually had no idea what it would do to a Cardassian. He remembered that one or two minor endemic Bajoran viruses had previously been known to have fatal results in Cardassians. Bashir didn't have much reference data from Cardassia for this sort of thing and wasn't likely to get any when they learned who his patient was. The doctor was more uneasy than he wanted his lover to know.

"Leave me," Garak rasped. Julian frowned, stroking a too-hot hand.

“What do you mean, leave you? Of course I'm not going to leave you. Why should I want to, when you need me the most?" he chided.

"This," Garak grated, indicating the area where he'd vomited, "is most distressing. Unpleasant, and likely to continue apparently, along with who knows what other nasty little surprises. Why is it necessary for you to subject yourself to all of that?"

Julian was stricken. Is that what other lovers had done, left him when anything unpleasant happened? Bashir believed that Garak cared about him as much as he was able, but he didn't think the Cardassianrealized what he meant to Julian. With a sigh, Bashir sat on the bed.

“Elim, listen to me. People do not - I do not - stop caring about someone because they vomit on me or cause me to lose some sleep, whether it happens once or countless times. I would be very worried about you, surely you know that," he smiled, laying his hand on Garak's.

"I hate to say it, but you're going to be sicker before this is over, and I want you with me so that I can watch over you, and care for you myself. Me, Elim, not because I'm the doctor, but because I want to be with you," Julian finished quietly. For a long moment Garak lay still with his eyes closed once again, but at last he squeezed his partner's hand.

"I did not say I wanted you to leave," he croaked. Misery and fear of the unknown radiated from the bloodshot eyes which fastened on Bashir's face.

"It'll be all right," Julian comforted, uttering up a silent prayer.

The transport to the infirmary was made without incident, and Garak was put in one of the private special care bays near its center, where his vital signs could be monitored and Julian could be with him most of the time.

The Cardassian's underdeveloped immune system was hit hard by the virus and his fever climbed alarmingly. Cooling measures were instituted but he didn't respond as the other patients had. In time the fever ceased to rise, but didn't fall as quickly as Julian had hoped.

Eating or drinking became impossible, and Garak required chemical nutrients. His bodily functions were at the mercy of the virus. If he had believed himself miserable and embarrassed before his lover with a single episode of vomiting, he soon discovered that was just the beginning of the torment his body could produce. For a time, he ceased to care about anything but the soft, crooning comfort of Julian's voice and the doctor's soothing hands. Once, deep in the throes of the chaos the virus was creating in his body, Garak had wakened gasping for air, panic-stricken.

"Can't - breathe! Help - me," he cried, gulping for air, clutching frantically at Bashir. Julian quickly scanned the bedside readings and realized that the problem was likely more sudden fright - a bad dream? - than anything else. Of course, now was not the time for rational explanations. The doctor reached for nasal oxygen cartridges and slipped one into each nostril. As they expanded and air began to reach Garak's lungs,  
he released his grip slightly.

"Julian, I don't..like…this," Garak whispered. The words pierced Julian's heart. He cradled his lover in his arms, rocking gently, caressing a ridged temple.

"I know, Dragon. Don't talk now. Try to relax," Julian comforted. "I'm here. It's all right." He was also afraid, but he was still a doctor and Garak was his patient.

Slowly, Bashir began to see signs of improvement. In the end he decided that it was Garak's general good health which turned the tide as much as his devoted nurse. That, and the fact that the virus just seemed to lose its hold on the Cardassian. For each hundred viruses which were easily treatable, in the vast galaxies Starfleet traveled, ten more reared their ugly heads which could be deadly. Julian had never been more grateful that this particular organism had decided to leave its host alive.

Not quite two weeks after the beginning of his ordeal, Garak was allowed to return to his own rooms. He was given strict instructions to take things easy but he stubbornly ignored the advice, as Bashir knew he would. In fact, Julian could have released him from the infirmary two days earlier, but knowing his patient, had wisely thought better of it.

The following week, it was almost as if the virus had never struck. There had been, however, one lasting effect of his illness. Garak had begun to believe that his young lover would not abandon him after all.

  
                                                                         II

 

Julian headed down the Promenade toward the holosuites with a sense of anticipation mixed with apprehension. Tonight was Garak's choice. At the Cardassian's suggestion, once a week they booked the evening in a holosuite.

Julian consciously chose experiences which would enhance the pleasures of a loving, steady relationship. He hoped that Garak was becoming accustomed to the idea that there was time enough to savor each single day, each sensual encounter. Bashir wanted his choices to reflect relaxation and a sense of timelessness. Each journey was meant to be a small vacation - another concept alien to Garak.

The nights that Garak selected the programs were quite different but certainly as satisfying, for the body if not the soul. Julian never knew exactly what was going to happen, although the sex was always incredible - hot, explosive, sometimes dark and a bit frightening.

Garak turned him on in ways he'd couldn't have imagined before they met. He was master of every nerve, every pleasure center in Julian's body, instinctively knowing what he wanted and what he needed, which were not always the same. Bashir might have been embarrassed at the sexual animal he became on those nights, but Garak affectionately reminded him that he was giving as much pleasure as he was receiving.

Lately, however, painful memories had begun to bleed into the life he shared with Garak. Bashir passed his palm over the sensor at the entrance to holosuite 3, unconsciously squaring his shoulders. After a momentary pause while the computer verified his identity, the doors opened.

Julian was surprised and relieved to see the gardens of Ytra lit by moonlight, with the waterfall beyond spilling into a tropical pool. He had chosen this evening for the two of them less than a month ago, and Garak must have remembered it.

Julian had enjoyed that visit, for Garak had been at his most light-hearted and tender, loving Julian in a way which made him feel safe, protected, and secure. Unaware, his body released some of the tension he had carried with him to the holosuite. Garak, however, saw. He was aware that something had been troubling Bashir lately, and he was glad that his choice pleased Julian.

Bashir grinned as he walked into Garak’s arms, pulling his head down for a blatantly teasing, hungry kiss, pressing against him shamelessly, running his hands over the muscular torso, quite aware how and where to bedevil his lover.

"Good evening, doctor," Garak chuckled, drawing back to catch his breath.

"Hi," Julian panted, eyes twinkling. He began to unfasten Garak's clothing, the older man indulgently lifting an arm here, a leg there, until he stood naked at the edge of the pool. An expression of mock disappointment clouded his face.

"Ah. You wish to go _swimming_ ,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Very well," he shrugged, turning his back on Bashir and wading into the water.

“Dragon," the doctor hissed. Garak smiled to himself. He'd done some reading in the computer library, and the pet name rather amused him.

"Doctor? Is there some reason you aren't removing your clothes to join me?”

"Yes," Julian grated impatiently.

"What is it?" Garak asked mildly, enjoying this. He always thrilled to Julian needing him, and the blessed boy let him see it often enough, he wasn't shy.

"Because I want you to do it," Bashir admitted, his tone suddenly seductive. Garak turned in the water.

"Ah. Well then," he grinned, returning. Julian echoed the grin as Garak stripped the Starfleet uniform off quickly and ungently, his hands every bit as knowledgeable as the doctor's in their appointed task. When he had finished he stood back, drinking in the sight of the slimly sculpted body so different from his own. Its handsome erection jutted  
unashamed; the rosy organ calling to him, mesmerizing.

"In the water or - ?" Garak asked hoarsely, suddenly hungry himself.

"That depends on where you catch me," Bashir laughed, springing away from his lover's grasp to tarry at the edge of the waterfall. As soon as Garak came after him, he danced away.

As much as he had entered into the spirit of the game, Garak's patience was less than Bashir imagined. Julian could evade his lover for a long time, but the Cardassian found that he often wanted, and needed, satisfaction sooner rather than later.

At times, Bashir didn't realize the effect he had on Garak, and the fact that the Cardassian had a lower tolerance for their teasing games. Bashir's knowledge of Cardassian psychosexuality was slight compared to his knowledge of their biophysiology. Garak had lived among non-Cardassians for so long he had adopted most of their superficial manners. Certainly in matters of love he had consciously adapted to his human partner, but there were times when his aggressive genes struggled to the surface and were difficult to control.

"Come here, boy!" Garak growled, almost grasping a wet and slippery arm. Julian laughed and stumbled, the breath knocked out of him for a moment as the Cardassian's head impacted on his solar plexus. Quite suddenly, he was pinned beneath the larger man, an iron grip forcing his wrists into the sand above his head.

“You should know better than to think you can run away from me. I'll teach you what happens to boys who think they're clever," Garak growled in Bashir's ear.

Almost as soon as the words left his lips, Garak felt the shudder which ran through his lover's body and heard the sharp intake of breath. Instantly he released his captive, his hand reaching out to soothe instead of dominate.

_No, please, not again. Oh, Julian, what is it that frightens you?_

Saddened and worried, Garak gathered Bashir into his arms.

“Julian, I'm far from typical in many ways, but in our mating habits Cardassians are rarely gentle and we do not tease, it is unknown to us. It might be wise to keep that in mind when you bait me so; I can't always predict how I will respond.

“You must remember, I am Cardassian. My temper is short and my anger quick. Still, I would not knowingly cause you pain," he soothed, doing his best to comfort Bashir, who still trembled in his embrace although he made no move to escape.

"I know. It's not your fault, it's mine. I'm sorry," Julian whispered, his voice soft, placating.

“No, it's not your fault. The blame lies with whoever has done this to you. I wish you could tell me what upsets you. I'll love the nightmares away, as you have done for me. Julian?" Garak asked softly, stroking his cheek. Weary to exhaustion and torn between old, painful memories and precious new love, Bashir clung to his Dragon, burying his face against the comforting bulk of the Cardassian.  
  
I'm sorry, Julian thought. I know you didn't mean anything, but my body remembers and has a will of its own. Some day I'll tell you. I don't think you would ever hurt me, but a part of me is still afraid. Not afraid of the physical pain but afraid of the betrayal, the pain in my heart.

“Hold me," he whispered, allowing a small whimper of release to escape as Garak's arms came around him, tight enough but not threatening.

"Forever," Garak soothed, rocking gently.

“I don't want to remember," Julian shuddered.

“Shhh, it's all right. I'm here, and I won't let anyone hurt you. No one's going to hurt you," Garak repeated over and over, until he felt Bashir begin to relax in his arms. Softly, Garak called out to end the program and requested another, a replica of their rooms. He settled Julian in bed with him before calling to extinguish the light. In the darkness Bashir curled against him, fiercely loving again although his penis remained as soft as it had become in his first moment of panic.

"It's not your fault. I love you, Dragon," reverberated against his chest, followed by soft lips bestowing a penitent kiss.

"I know," Garak, rubbing a rigid shoulder. "Try to sleep."

He believed it was violence which disturbed Julian, not just rough or passionate sex, for even when Bashir was begging his lover to fuck him into eternity, there was nothing wrong with his libido.

Garak would never forget the first time it happened. It had been in the holosuite, where fantasy was the rule rather than the exception. They were in some variation of a captive/slave game when he struck Julian across the face harder than he meant to. To the Cardassian the blow seemed inconsequential, but Bashir's expression and his reaction had shocked him. Julian's face had gone pale, his eyes wide and genuinely frightened for a few seconds. His sweet erection had vanished almost instantly and could not be induced to return. Garak had apologized and asked what he had done, but had received only a vague, unsatisfactory answer.

When it happened a second time, Garak began to remember other things. He often watched Julian as he slept, and was surprised to note faint scars scattered over Bashir's body in no recognizable pattern. Some were from laser surgery but others were not, nor did they seem to be consistent with most types of sport injury he could think of. Once he had asked casually how such a young man had come to have such battle scars. Julian had shrugged it off with a comment about being a clumsy child. Still, Garak had wondered.

A few weeks before while walking in the Promenade, they had crossed paths with a Landoran father and son. The boy had apparently misbehaved - stolen a sweet from one of the shops or some other minor transgression. Landoran discipline was abruptly physical, and the father had smacked the child quite hard, causing him to wail pitifully. Garak felt Julian's instant fury. Not surprise, he would realize much later, but extreme anger. His gentle, quiet partner was steps from confronting the Landoran, fists clenched, before the man realized that he had attracted an audience and wisely moved on.

"I don't understand," Garak had confessed. "There are many ways to discipline a child. Why would a father strike his own son?"

“Cardassians don't ever physically abuse their children? You've never seen a parent lose his temper and strike a child - beat a child, in uncontrolled anger?" Julian asked quietly.

"No. It would not…it would not be," the Cardassian shrugged, at a loss for explanation of something unknown to him. “We have other ways of enforcing discipline, though they are not really kinder.” Julian had smiled then - a small, sad smile.

"I'm glad it never happened to you," he said, unobtrusively taking Garak's hand and continuing their stroll.

  
                                                                              ***

The evening after the last holosuite disaster, Julian didn't appear at Quark's for their nightly libation. Worried and frustrated, Garak gave up and went home. He found time passing slowly, and the possibility of hours stretching before him without his lover's company depressed him. When he heard Bashir's step on the stair quite late, he steeled himself to do nothing which would drive the younger man away, regardless of what he might wish to say.

Julian was solemn, wary of his reception as he came into the room, studying Garak's face for a sign.

“I had some work to catch up on - "

“An excuse isn't necessary. You're here now, and that's all I wanted. Sit with me, and talk," Garak, patting the sofa beside him as he poured two glasses of Hith'rar brandy. Julian sat. He reached for the liquor a little too quickly and took a healthy swallow.

"You look tired," the Cardassian couldn't help mentioning. Bashir stared into his glass.

“I am. Tired. A little," he sighed, his thoughts obviously far away.

"Would you rather just go to bed then? Go on, and take the brandy with you. I'll put a few things away and join you in a moment," Garak smiled encouragement. To his surprise Bashir stiffened, taking another larger than usual drink of the liquor.

"I really do think I need to sleep. Just - sleep." Bashir's voice shook. Garak took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table. He brought Julian to his feet, taking the flushed face in his hands.

“Then that's what you'll do - sleep. Do you think I would force myself on you?" Garak sighed - hurt, impatient, and exasperated at all the things Julian was not telling him. He could have bitten his tongue as he saw Bashir wince at the words, although he could not have stopped them.

"Elim - "

“Go to bed. I'll be there shortly." Bashir nodded numbly, wishing to avoid a confrontation. He didn't know what else to do, or say. Anything except the truth. How could he explain to Garak what he didn't understand himself?

When Garak entered the bedroom, Julian feigned sleep. That he was not asleep was painfully obvious by his stiff posture and ragged breathing. Garak said nothing, undressing and slipping under the bedclothes. When the room was in darkness, he gave Bashir's shoulder a squeeze then turned and settled, leaving Julian his own physical space.

Neither man slept for a long time, each aware of the other's wakefulness but afraid to speak. Garak dropped into an uneasy doze, but woke some time later to sense Julian padding quietly down the stairs, long before it was time for him to rise. Garak was uneasy. Whatever was wrong, it was not going to go away and it appeared to be getting worse.

  
  
                                                                           ***

 

Over the next week it became obvious that the situation was deteriorating, spinning out of the realm of damage control. Bashir no longer came to the shop every night. He often remained in his own quarters, yet it appeared he was getting little sleep. Purple shadows appeared beneath his eyes and he acquired an unhealthy pallor.

A single further attempt at intimacy had been a dismal experience, and Garak could not believe that Julian's pain at the failure was any greater than his own. If he could not reach him he could not help, and Bashir was shutting him out. Worse, he appeared to be turning to someone else.

Garak knew that Bashir and the Trill Dax were friends. Contrary to appearances, Julian had given him to understand that Dax had always known he sought male companionship, and they were simply friends. Lately, however, he found himself wondering if anything about his tortured lover consisted of a simple truth.

Once or twice when Julian had not come home, Garak had gone looking for him and had discovered the doctor in the deepest recesses of Quark's, sitting with Jadzia Dax in earnest conversation. Other times he had asked the computer where Bashir was, and was informed that he was in Lt. Dax's quarters.

Against his will, the Cardassian's worry and pain over his lover's abandonment began to turn to bitter frustration and anger at both Julian and Dax. He had trusted Bashir, let him see into his heart, his very soul. Now, it seemed Julian did not trust him in the same way, and the realization hurt deeply. All the same, he was not willing to give up the only true happiness he'd ever known. If a thing was worth having it was worth fighting for, and he would still fight for Julian.

Garak pressed the chime at Julian’s quarters late one evening, when he had determined that Bashir was alone. The face which met his in surprise was painful to look upon; pale and thin, worried and sad. He seemed resigned as he allowed Garak to enter.

"And where is Lt. Dax?" Garak asked, unwilling to hide his feelings.

_I am Cardassian. He must deal with that, as I must deal with his reluctance to trust me._

“Garak, I'm tired - "

"So am I! So am I, boy - but we must talk. You owe me that much, surely," Garak stated, sitting without being asked. He realized that his anger was getting the better of him to a degree he hadn't experienced since the Occupation, and it made him uneasy.

"I owe you everything," Bashir whispered, haunted.

“You have an extremely odd way of showing it." Realizing by the battered expression on Julian's face that sarcasm would get him nowhere and believing that honesty might, emotion of another sort began to spill from the older man.

"Julian, I can't bear this! Talk to me - tell me what's wrong. How can you go to her? Have you lied to me - do you sleep with her? My bed is cold and I am lonely, and it hurts. What have I done to deserve this?" Garak's voice broke.

Bashir looked as if he'd been slapped. Tears welled in his eyes and he put a hand to Garak’s shoulder. He moved close, caressing the ridged skull, softly stroking the neat black hair. Garak willingly allowed his face to be pressed against Bashir's midsection.

“God knows, I don't mean to hurt you. I don't love Jadzia in the way that you mean. I could never love her the way that I love you. She's my friend - a good friend. She's been helping me in a way that you can't, love. Dax understands things about humans that you wouldn't, not yet.

“None of what's troubling me has anything to do with you, and it isn't your fault, please believe that. We will talk, I promise. The Commander wants me to go with the Defiant, but when we get back - "

“You're going through the wormhole in that ridiculous ship? Then it isn't a question of when you get back, but if. Why do they want you to go?" Garak worried.

"It's certainly not because I'd be of any real use to them if we ran into serious trouble," Bashir made an attempt to joke. The words dangled awkwardly for a few seconds before Garak tugged at Julian to sit.

"I don't know when I'll see you again. If what you say is true, if I'm not the cause of your unhappiness, then will you let me love you tonight? I'll do whatever you wish. I won't hurt you, I swear it, but I want to be with you again before you go. Julian...?”

The openly pleading tone to Garak's voice pained Bashir. Had he hurt his lover so badly? Hadn't he lived with enough cruelty that he could recognize it in himself? He supposed he hadn't quite believed that Garak cared about him this much. Julian tried to speak but didn't know what to say; he nodded mutely before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Garak's.

They undressed each other slowly, kissing, petting, caressing. There should be no sense of urgency, no matter how difficult restraint was for Garak. This was for Julian almost more than it was for him. The room began to echo with the hesitant sounds of Bashir's response to his partner. They made a natural progression from the sofa to the bed, and Garak was relieved to see visual evidence of Julian's arousal.

The smells, sounds and texture of the beloved body whichh had been denied him intoxicated Garak. He was so intent on pleasing Bashir that he blinded himself to what had actually taken place between them until it was over and they lay, breathing heavily, side by side.

Bashir had climaxed certainly, and so had he, but something was missing. Julian. His body was there of course, but not that which made him Julian Bashir, Elim Garak's lover. That man was not here, and the bewildered Garak didn't know if he was lost forever.

Within the Cardassian, sorrow warred with anger. It had been for nothing, then. He had given all of the love and tenderness he possessed, and it had not been enough. He knew that his anger would win, and he despised himself for it. He rose and began to dress. Bashir remained motionless on the bed, silent.

"Good night, Julian." Angry or not, he couldn't bear to say the word 'goodbye'. He leaned over and kissed his lover softly on the lips, tasting the salt of human tears.

_Cry then, as I cry inside. I cannot help you if you will not let me._

When Garak had gone, Bashir lay shivering in the darkened room, no longer holding back his tears. Why had he believed Garak wouldn't feel the difference?

Papa, why? I want to hate you, but I can't. I want to go on with my life, but you won't let me. The room echoed Julian's thoughts, yet gave him no answers.

Once back in the shop, Garak's mood began to change. For weeks he had put his partner's needs before his own. For all that he had tried not to be what he was, it had made no difference in the end. He could feel a rage starting to build which he didn't know if he could control. Worse, he didn't know if he wanted to control it. It felt good to be genuinely angry after all this time. It both frightened and exhilarated him, and as adrenaline surged through his body he found his thoughts turning more and more to how he had been wronged. Used, and abandoned. All the same, if Julian boarded the Defiant tomorrow he might well never see the young man again, and he didn't know which would be the worse pain - not seeing him, or seeing him again when he returned, with all the light gone out of him and nothing left for Garak.

“Computer - where is Dr. Bashir?"

"Dr. Bashir is in his quarters." The Cardassian's shoulders lowered slightly.

"Where is Lt. Dax?”

“Lt. Dax is in Dr. Bashir's quarters." Garak took a long, raw swallow of Cardassian whiskey. He stared calmly for a moment at the vessel in his hand, then suddenly heaved it at the wall with all his strength. At the sound of glass shattering, bitter laughter filled the room.

It didn't matter any more. Nothing mattered except this anger, cold and unreasoning. He took another pull from the decanter, and another. He sat in the dimly lit room caught between rage and tears, but knowing that rage was the only way he had managed to survive these years in exile. Lost in thought, he almost missed the sound of footsteps.

Julian stood at the top of the stairs. He quickly took in the shattered glass, the bottle of liquor on the table, and the Cardassian's eyes, dark and bitter. He dismissed the warnings, however, because there were things he had to say. It was time, now.

"Elim, I've come to tell you - "

“Come to tell me what, doctor - that you have been with your precious Jadzia again? I knew that already. Who else would you go to for comfort when you are in need?" Julian blocked out the steely edge to his lover's voice, hearing only the pain.

"Ah, no! It isn't like that. I'll tell you anything you want to know, but I haven't much time. We leave at 0700 tomorrow."

"What makes you think it matters to me any longer, boy? Why should I listen to your lies and excuses? Do you think you cannot hurt me? There are two things which seem to capture your attention these past weeks - Lt. Dax, and violence. Well, I'm not Dax, but I do understand pain and violence, because I have lived my life in their wake. You changed all that - or so I believed."

Garak advanced on Julian, who was frozen. Bashir knew what was about to happen, but did not move. He deserved this somehow. He must deserve it, else why would one who was supposed to love him do this? The fault must be his. If he stayed and took it like a man, maybe one day it would stop. Memories, fear and pain surrounded Julian like an aura, but the Cardassian was blind to it, seeing only the cause of his misery. He pushed Bashir backward, oblivious to the thud of the doctor's head striking the wall.

“Can you feel MY pain, noble healer? I am an open wound, Julian! You said you would not leave me but you have, and I have done nothing - nothing! Has it all been a game then, some kind of odd joke? I fear I do not understand humor all that well, Doctor."

Julian shivered. He had never heard Garak's voice so icy, and he couldn't fail to hear the menace. He watched as the hand came at him. He didn't try to avoid the blow, because that would be as useless as it had always been. As he'd done many times before, Julian blanked at the moment of contact. He tasted the blood in his mouth, but for those few moments he didn't feel the pain. The force of the blow stunned him however, and he swayed dizzily, leaning against the wall.

"Get out." Garak's voice was frigid, shaking with the effort of control. Pupils wide, Julian nodded, ineffectively trying to stop the blood which trickled from his nose.

"I love you, Dragon." Bashir's voice was barely audible as he moved toward the stairs. He stumbled once and Garak wondered if he would fall; at last he heard the shop door close. As he had been before they met, Garak was once again alone and in darkness.

  
  
                                                                          III

 

Garak wasn't sure how much time had passed before he became aware of his surroundings. He found himself sitting hunched on the floor with his back to the wall, staring at tiny spatters of red-brown which flecked his suit. Several feet away, the carpet was littered with slivers of broken glass. He was cold and stiff, as if he'd been sitting in that position for some time. He rose feeling like an old man.

What had happened here? How had the glass broken - and was that blood on his tunic? Perhaps he had cut himself on the glass. When he looked down at his hands, there were no marks at all. His temporary loss of memory upset him. He'd forgotten what it was like, that uncontrollable Cardassian anger. Something important had happened. Something terrible, and he needed to know what it was.

He began to clean up the glass and straighten the room, calling for the time. 0720, the computer informed him. He must have been sitting there all night. Had he been drunk? He didn't feel as if he'd been drinking, but the decanter of liquor sat on the table half empty. Had he shared a drink with someone? No one ever came to his rooms except Julian, and it seemed so long since - Julian.

The evening's events began to return to him with brutal clarity. He'd been hurt, and angry with Julian. They had exchanged bitter words, but still Bashir had come here to see him. The boy had wanted to tell him something, but he hadn't been in a mood to listen. He did remember now. The tell-tale specks on his tunic were - oh, Julian!

Garak went quickly down the stairs and into the shop. As he opened the outer door, he spied an envelope which had been pushed inside. He recognized Julian's handwriting and his name, scrawled hurriedly. The envelope contained a video chip. Garak began to have a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He remembered the Defiant and its mission.

“Computer - what is the location of Dr. Bashir?"

"Dr. Bashir is not on the station."

"What is the location of the ship Defiant?"

“The Defiant left the station at 0700."

Twenty minutes before he'd even come to himself, Julian had departed with the rest of them on that appalling suicide mission. Garak might never have the chance to apologize, to hold his lover again. And Julian had wanted to talk to him, had not abandoned him after all. The chip. With trembling hands, he walked to the workroom and put the cube into his computer.

The image was bright and clear, and it made Garak slightly nauseated to see the results of his temper. His lover's face stared at him rather solemnly at first, a bruise on one cheekbone and a cut at one corner of the sensitive mouth - marks which Garak was well aware he had put there. How could he have done such a thing?

The handsome face smiled, a little.

"Dragon, I'll probably be gone by the time you get this. Please, try not to be too hard on yourself. I don't blame you for what happened and you mustn't blame yourself, it was my fault. I was self-absorbed and selfish, and I pushed you too far.

“You were right when you said I haven't always understood your moods and tempers, but that isn't your fault either. Heaven knows, you gave me enough warnings, enough cries for understanding, but I was too wrapped up in myself to hear you, and for that I'm truly sorry. We've happened so fast, the two of us. We keep forgetting there's so much more to learn about each other. I want to be there to learn it all. Please, don't give up on me yet.

"I've been so preoccupied, so worried, that I couldn't deal with anything else. I didn't even realize how badly I was hurting the person I love more than anyone. It was wrong of me and childish, as Jadzia has pointed out frequently. You mustn't be angry with her, she always said I ought to tell you everything. She didn't want me to hide things from you, and she never wanted to come between us. She's a good friend.

“I was afraid you wouldn't understand, but I don't have the luxury of worrying about that any longer. You were right when you guessed that I'd been physically abused in the past, but it wasn't Sinjon, or any other sexual partner. In his own way, Sinjon was actually reasonably kind.

“It was my father. Do you remember telling me that you couldn't understand how a parent could beat their child? You said such a thing didn't exist on Cardassia, and it was then that I began to be afraid you wouldn't understand what I wanted to tell you.

“I haven't seen my father since he paid a visit to the Academy and concluded whatever sort of deal he made with Sinjon. He didn't stay for my graduation, of course. Several days before you and I began to have our 'problems' in the holosuite, I received a series of messages from my sister. Gemma tells me that my father has been looking for me. He's told her that he wants to visit me, although I've heard nothing from him directly, which is true to form. She's been keeping me informed as to where he is. That's what has been worrying me love, not us.

“I don't want him to come here, and I DO want it. He's my father. I don't expect you to understand how I feel because I don't understand myself. I'll answer all your questions as best I can when I come back. I'll tell you anything!"

“When you and I were in the holosuite, there were things you said which brought back memories I'd blocked for a long time. Sometimes when you grabbed me I felt like I couldn't get away, and I panicked. I knew you weren't my father and I knew you weren't going to hurt me, but it still triggered the memories.” Julian’s voice broke.

“As things became more complicated, I would lie in bed alone, and all I wanted was to be in your arms, and you telling me it would be all right. I was afraid that if I kept coming to bed night after night without us making love it would make things worse, so I stayed away. You wouldn’t have rested until you found out why I couldn’t...any more. A stupid choice, I know. I'd give anything to change it now.

"You were very beautiful and tender our last time. I was so ashamed after you'd gone. I hated myself for what I'd done to you. I tried to make it come right, Dragon. I really did try, but only made a worse mess of things.

"My greatest mistake was in not believing that you love me as much as I love you. I don't know if I can make it up to you, but I certainly intend to try. I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. Promise to take extra care of yourself for me, love." A thin hand stretched toward the recorder as if Julian would caress the watcher if he could. The screen went blank.

Garak sat, stunned for a moment, before the bile rose in his throat and he choked on it, for once welcoming the bitter taste, embracing the pain which assailed his heart as much as his physical senses.

Julian had been abused all his life by his own father, and in the last contact he'd had with the one person who should have given him comfort, he had struck him. How was such pain to be borne, by either of them? Julian afraid, miserable, wanting and needing comfort, lying alone night after night. Gathering his courage and then being rebuffed and abused yet again.

_I am a monster!_

Feelings of shame, regret and anguish welled up in him. He felt pain for his own loss, for the kind, gentle young man who loved him, and also for the unhappy child his lover had been. Finally, he retrieved the chip from the computer, caressing the small, hard object with his fingers before taking it upstairs.  
  
                                                                         ***

Time passed almost unbearably slowly. Garak had no desire to open his shop, but some days he did so simply to occupy his hands, if not his brain. He tried to tell himself that he had customers, that life went on whether he wanted it to or not, but he wanted neither to believe in nor live with that reality.

He spent his evenings using the computer for research, reading everything he could find about the ugliness of child abuse. Its forms were many - physical, emotional, sexual, or any combination of those, and they all sickened him though he was quite familiar with the emotional kind. He was somewhat puzzled that memories of his father’s violence rendered Julian unable to have sex. It was possible of course that his father abused him that way as well, but Garak hadn’t sensed that in Julian’s confession. Remembering that Julian had told him his father would never have wanted his son to mate with anyone but a female capable of bearing children, he wondered if some of his father’s violence had been directed at him for being caught having sex with another boy. 

Had Julian's father never loved him? He hadn't mentioned his mother, although he had spoken of his sister with great affection. They had seldom spoken of either family or friends. There was too much he didn't know, wasn't sure if he would ever know now, about his lover.

Boy. It was meant as a term of affection, part of this 'teasing' which Julian was teaching him. Remembering some of the things he'd said to Bashir during their lovemaking in the holosuite and his frequent use of the word there, Garak hurt for Julian. Yet, even when things were very bad between them, his lover had understood that the name reflected Garak's unspoken feelings for him. Julian, I’m sorry.  
  
                                                                        ***

Quark returned to DS9 alone six days after leaving with the Defiant and its crew. He relayed what he knew of the negotiations on Karemma and the Defiant's planned trip to the Callinon system to attempt contact with the Dominion. He also brought another video chip for Garak, who had not been at all reassured by the Ferengi's information.

Garak's hand shook as he slipped the chip into his computer. He needed very badly to see Bashir alive, but he was also aware that this might be the last time he would ever see him.

Julian's face appeared this time with the intimate, slightly devilish smile which always made Garak feel cherished and desired. The smile that no one else on DS9 had ever seen. The bruise on his cheek had faded, now barely perceptible.

"Hello, love. It's an unexpected bonus, being able to contact you again. Sort of an old-fashioned love letter, I suppose. At least, I hope you understand that's the way it's meant. I must admit, sending it back to you via Quark is hardly my idea of romantic, but then, he's the only one of us who's coming back - for now, that is.

“We don't know what's out there, or how long it's going to take us to complete this mission. You know that I'd rather be with you, doing - well, a number of things much more exciting than sitting in a conference room on Karemma." Julian's laughter was as genuine as the twinkle in his eye, and somehow, it gave Garak a tiny beam of hope.

“I can only tell you the simple, ridiculous things you already know. Do anything to keep busy, it doesn't matter how trivial. Try not to think of how far away I might be, or how long it might take us to return. Think of our first night together when I come back; it's what I'm going to be thinking of, whenever I can.

"I love you, and I swear - nothing and no one will have the power to make us this unhappy again, least of all ourselves. We matter, and it's damn all but that!" His lover's voice was low, as full of tenderness as it was of passion.

“Please, don't do anything foolish; it would be the ultimate cruelty for me. We both understand all of the things I want to say to you about one of us being left behind without the other, but I can't bring myself to say them.

"Just know that I love you. Hold to that, and believe it. Believe I'm always with you, love. Always, as surely as if I were touching you now, holding you, as I want to be. I'll see you soon, my Dragon."

As the screen faded, Garak felt as if a giant hand which had been squeezing his heart had released it, and blood was flowing through the organ again. After all that Julian had been through on his own, after what he had done in anger, Julian still loved him and was trying to comfort him.

 _Yes, love, I am comforted for now._  
  
                                                                            ***

After Quark's return, however, the comfort lessened. A week and more crawled by, and Garak viewed the chip more and more frequently until he was watching it two and three times a day. He was trying not to think about exactly what Julian had known he would - ending his miserable life if the rest of it were to be spent without his lover. No - his love. That they were lovers was not the sum of who they were, Garak had come to understand that. If they were merely sexual partners, he would never want to -

At the end of one particular day in waiting, he went to one of the holosuites. He brought with him a very special chip, one which had caused his first fight with Julian. And how they had made up! He smiled in spite of himself. Without telling Bashir, Garak had arranged for their evening in the holosuite to be recorded. The next night in his rooms, he had played the recording.

Julian had been angry, but more than anything else he was embarrassed to be caught in the eye of passion for his lover, to actually see himself in thrall to the other man, and to know that Garak saw it too. Bashir was nothing if not honest, however, and he soon began to view the tape as the turn-on it certainly was to Garak. After they had made love that night - and there were many times Garak had wished that evening might also have been recorded - the tape had been viewed often, and never failed to arouse both of them.

Garak had tried - how he had tried! - to wait for his love, but the pain had simply grown too great. He had reached a decision; he didn't want to continue his life without Julian. He would watch the tape in the holosuite like one of Quark's voyeurs. He would then go home to sleep, if he could. He didn't know when the pain would drive him to it - tomorrow, the day after, a week from now - but he knew it would happen. He would disappoint his love one final time in his agony of loneliness. Julian always told him how strong he was, but it was a lie. He wasn't strong enough to go on without the one thing which made his life worth living.

Garak inserted the memory chip into the slot, his heart pounding. Tonight, he watched with eyes which saw not only his partner's passionate response to him, but something he had never allowed himself to acknowledge. The love plainly written on his own face made it hard to breathe. There was no master here, only two men who loved each other with a depth neither realized until they were torn apart.

"Deeper. I want more of you, Dragon. Want to feel you deep inside me. Want you to be part of me. Yesss. Dragon," Julian moaned, the softened scales massaging his prostate.

The words and his lover's voice were enough to push Garak over the brink and the Cardassian climaxed violently, still half afraid he would injure the slighter Julian.

“I love it when you come in me like that, it seems to go on forever. No! Don't leave me. I love to feel your cock inside me - pulsing, then soft. Don't even want to take a shower when we've made love like this. Want to feel your cum leaking out of me, slowly. Don't go yet. Stay inside me. Stay," Julian pleaded softly.

"All right, boy. Shhh, all right." Garak trembled with weariness, fitting the two bodies together in some semblance of comfort. "I believe that just now, you could ask anything of me and I would grant it," he whispered, nuzzling against Julian's shoulder, his arms holding the younger man tightly backagainst him.

“Tell me that you love me," Julian's drowsy murmur filled the holosuite. Garak snorted in surprise and did not answer immediately. Bashir sighed in sated resignation, lapsing into slumber. Once he was certain that his lover slept, Garak kissed the warm shoulder.

"I love you," he whispered.

Garak called out harshly for the computer to end the program. As many times as they had watched it together, he had never allowed Julian's plaintive request to actually register in his heart until now.

How could he understand the depth of my feelings for him when I never let him see? How could he possibly have known, when I guarded my emotions so. Fool!

Garak pulled the chip from the slot and exited the holosuite. All the pain of his life weighed on him as he walked back to his rooms. Jedar. Parvat. His estrangement from his own people - even from Tain, or especially from Tain. No one had ever loved him unreservedly except Julian.

In his heart, after all this time, Garak did not believe Julian would return. Those he cared for met violent ends, and he loved Julian so much more than the others that he couldn't possibly survive.

_I have murdered them all. Now, only my punishment remains._

Garak entered the shop, automatically straightening stock, tidying as he moved to the stairs. Upstairs, he took a measure of brandy and went into the bedroom to sleep alone in the bed he had so joyfully shared with Julian,

Dreams interrupted his restless dozing. Jedar, his face almost forgotten after so many years. His young self, pleading with his father on Jedar's execution day. The tribunal, where he could smell his own fear, sharp and acrid, as Parvat was sentenced. Dukat, his face a perfect mask but his eyes saying so much.

Garak dreamed of many things, but he did not dream of Julian. He woke the next morning in a tangle of damp bedclothes, his head pounding. In another two hours, a customer would be in to pick up a suit that he hadn't begun.

_I cannot. Julian, I cannot. I know you would be angry with me. You were wrong. I'm not strong any more, not without you. I need you. I need you, j’barra, for without you I have no heart of my own._

Methodically, Garak rose and went to cleanse himself in Julian's shower. The irony of its use did not escape him. He neatened the bed and then dressed in a clean suit of clothes. There would be nothing to write, for who would read it, or care?

Garak went into the other room. His eyes lit on a K'angi ceremonial knife in a display cabinet, and he retrieved it. Was it symbolic of his life on the station that he hadn't kept any traditional Cardassian weapons? He knelt, opening a small cabinet which held the basic objects for a Cardassian Rite of Passage. This, he had kept. Julian had not understood what the cabinet contained and when he asked about it, Garak had lied to him. He had assumed that ritual suicide was not a subject which the doctor would appreciate.

For the first time in nearly eight years, Garak allowed himself the small peace of a meditation. He tried to shut out specific thoughts of Julian, instead focusing on the course of his life, and his wish that he might have better accomplished what was expected of him as a Cardassian. Slowly, haltingly, he asked forgiveness of the One whom he had told himself long ago that he had ceased to believe in. His most heartfelt apology, however, was to Julian, who had become his God.

It was not difficult to choose the beginning of the ritual. His right hand, which had struck Julian. After that, perhaps he would act the coward Dukat had always accused him of being and simply slit his throat. It was true that he never had been tolerant of pain. The knife was very sharp, however; it shouldn't be too bad. Garak pulled his sleeve back and set the blade against his wrist, a bit shocked at the first spurt of red-black fluid.

"NOOO!" Something hurled itself at him and the knife went spinning across the room. A body crushed him in frantic embrace.

“If I'd come up here five minutes later - oh my God!"

Garak was so deeply immersed in his meditative state, so keyed up for the ritual he had actually begun, that it was perhaps a minute before he understood who had stopped him, and in whose arms he was being held. When he did realize, he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Forgive me. I couldn't bear it any longer. I would have done what you begged me not to. It wasn't because I didn't love you enough, j’barra, but because I love you too much. I'm sorry," Garak whispered, reaction to what he had almost accomplished and his very narrow escape from death now setting in.

“Hush, love, hush. I'm not angry with you, truly I'm not. It's all right. I'm here now. I'm here. Shhh," Bashir soothed, rocking him, petting and gentling until the shaking lessened somewhat and Garak was quieter. It was only then that Julian felt something sticky between his fingers, looked down, and realized that the cut on Garak's wrist was significant and had been bleeding fairly freely.

“Let's take care of your hand. We can't have you bleeding all over the furniture," Bashir encouraged gently, helping him to the sofa. He wrapped a towel tightly around the cut, going to the cabinet where he kept an extra med kit.

"It won't take a minute, love. Close your eyes," Julian teased, remembering Garak's aversion to blood. He laser-sutured the gash together until only a thin, pale white line remained. He took a hypospray from the med kit and injected the tailor.

“What was that?" Garak asked dully.

"A mild tranquilizer, just enough to let you rest a bit. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Julian assured him. Garak frowned.

“Don't want to sleep, 'n find out you're a dream," he slurred, the drug already taking effect.  
  
"I'm quite real, and I'll be here when you wake," Julian smiled, stroking a ridged cheek.

“ ‘m sorry," Garak whispered. “Sorry.”

“It's all right, love. Go to sleep," Bashir murmured. He took the injured wrist and pressed his lips against it tenderly before laying it back on Garak's chest. He kept watch until his lover slept.

In the dream state induced by the Founders I watched you die, my only love, and there was nothing I could do. I held you in my arms as you left me, and there was a bitter coldness where my heart had been. Now I've almost lost you a second time, but I can't be angry with you. No matter what I said, I believe I would have done the same if I thought I'd never see you again, because I couldn't bear the thought of life without you. Sleep, love.

                                                                           ***

"Julian!" The Cardassian sat bolt upright, his heart pounding.

“I'm here." Bashir's voice came from the bedroom. He emerged wearing the bottom half of his pajamas.

“How long was I asleep?"

"Only a couple of hours. Love, I have 48 hours off duty, unless there's a medical emergency. We have plenty of time. We can talk, make love, and sleep, for two whole days. NOT necessarily in that order," Julian grinned. He stopped at the replicator a moment, bringing a bowl to the table, sitting on the sofa beside Garak.

“I don't want to eat."

"But you will anyway, for me?"

To Julian's shock, Garak began to weep silently. Unable to stop, he turned his face away from Bashir, ashamed, but the younger man would have none of it. He pulled Garak to him and held on.

“Don't be embarrassed, love. I wish I could cry, but part of me is still numb. My sweet Dragon, I held you for only moments, and then you were gone," Julian whispered, telling Garak briefly some of what the crew of the Defiant had been through since they had disappeared.

“I mourned for you, even when I knew it had been a dream. It was so real. When I saw what you were about to do with that knife, I was terrified. I love you so much, my plain and simple tailor," Bashir sighed, stroking the Cardassian's thick, coarse hair. "I think you are my life, as much as I am yours."

“I don't deserve your love. I've brought you only misery," Garak choked. Julian cupped his love's face in his hands.

"No, Elim. Both of us have made mistakes and we've hurt each other, but not because we meant to. I don't know, maybe something like this had to happen before we understood how much we meant to each other. We mustn't look back. No more recriminations and no more guilt. There's a very old Earth saying which fits us, I think - 'Today is the first day of the rest of your life.' Is that all right with you?" Bashir asked. Garak nodded.

“Oh, yes, j’barra,” he sighed, resting his head on Bashir's shoulder.

Julian continued to card gently through his lover's hair, alternately caressing the double-ridged earlobe which Julian had found could be as sensitive as any Ferengi's.

"I have a new name?" he questioned, smiling.

"You are not a boy. You are _j’barra_. My heart," Garak murmured shyly, placing a soft kiss over Julian's left chest, leaning his head down to connect with the comforting beat. When Bashir spoke again, his voice quavered.

“J'barra. I like that, very much. Come with me, my sweet Dragon," he coaxed, rising and pulling Garak with him. When he turned in the direction of the bedroom, Garak stopped.

“Julian, I'm not - I don't think I can - "

“Come with me," Bashir repeated. Garak followed, unwilling to be parted from Julian for even a moment.

While Garak slept, Julian had been arranging things in the bedroom. The bedclothes were new, ones the Cardassian had never seen before. The room was lit only by candles, their light flowing softly, like an intimate sea. Bashir guided his partner to the bed, sitting beside him.

"I want to show you - I need to show you, that I love you. I want you to feel good again, about yourself and about us. This is for you, only what you want," Julian explained, hoping that Garak would understand.

“I - "

“I don't expect anything in return, I only want to love you. I want you to feel my love, that's all. Will you let me do that for you?" Julian asked earnestly.

“Yes, j’barra. Yes," Garak nodded, still slightly puzzled, but warmed by his lover's eyes and voice. To have Julian close to him, to inhale his scent, absorb his touch and hear his soft murmurs of love was all that he had dreamed of for days.

“Thank you," Julian smiled, leaning close to brush his lips very softly against Garak's. It was a singular whisper, and also the promise of a lifetime of kisses.

Bashir began to undress Garak slowly, fastening by fastening, stopping often to bestow more wispy, butterfly kisses to mouth, eyelids, nose, ears, shoulders. Garak drew in a ragged breath, a single tear leaking from beneath closed eyes. Julian kissed the tear away.

"It's all right. Everything's all right," he reminded, continuing his journey centimeter by centimeter until Garak lay back on the bed, exposed in more ways than one.

The Cardassian didn't know whether to keep his eyes closed so that Julian wouldn't see the need they radiated, or whether to gaze into his partner's amber eyes and bathe in the love he saw there.

Julian reached for a container beside the bed and poured a viscous liquid out into his hand. He straddled Garak’s thighs and leaned forward, smoothing his palms lightly over his lover's face, neck, shoulders and chest. His fingers sought out tension, working slowly, the massage interspersed with slow, intimate, open-mouthed kisses.

Julian was so gently caring that Garak realized he actually was relaxing, and this allowed him to let go even further. Waves of contentment washed over him, followed by a myriad of sensations he had long been without, all of them extremely pleasurable.

Julian felt the difference, and smiled. He moved beside Garak, stroking the broad chest. Fingertips traced the ridge of scales, identical to the Cardassian eye ridges, which crowned his lover's breasts. He increased the pressure slightly and felt the tissue soften at his touch. Garak gasped, tossing his head.

"J’barra, I want to see you," he murmured. Julian stood long enough to pull his pajama bottoms off and toss them to a chair.

"Your wish is my command," Bashir smiled. Garak reached out, cupping dark testicles in his hand, squeezing playfully.

“Ahh! Not fair. This is about you, not me," Julian groaned, gritting his teeth to maintain self control.

"But what if I want - "

“Later. This time is for you," he repeated, sliding down beside Garak. His mouth continued what his fingers had begun, his tongue drawing wet circles around each breast ridge, then zeroing in on the twin targets, suckling noisily. Garak moaned aloud with pleasure. Before Julian, he would not have dreamed how much he could enjoy this.

Hands and mouth moved slowly down to abdominal muscles, which Bashir found surprisingly ticklish. He licked across the plate of thickened skin which served as the Cardassian equivalent of pubic hair, nipping gently. Garak sighed, spreading his legs to give his lover access.

Julian took velvet-textured sacs into his mouth, rippling his tongue over the smooth mounds as his hand slowly worked his partner's thick, charcoal-colored cock. This was something he could do all night, knowing how much pleasure it gave.

Garak shuddered, and there was a sudden intake of breath as Bashir's lips closed over the head of his penis. Julian continued his attentions for some minutes, but while Garak was obviously deriving great pleasure from the experience, his level of arousal did not seem to be advancing.

The doctor in Julian knew that Garak had been through a severe trauma. Not only had he believed his lover dead, he had made the decision to end his life and had actually been in the midst of committing the act when Julian had stopped him. It was no wonder that sex was not the foremost item on his body's agenda. The Cardassian was also 20 years his partner's senior, and his physical responses were not likely to be those of a 30 year old no matter how much he might wish they were.

"Roll over," Julian murmured in Garak's ear, easing him onto his stomach. The tension reducing massage continued, working tight shoulder and back muscles. Bashir let his hands wander lower, squeezing firm, muscular buttocks, nipping and licking the tender skin before he parted the globes and teased the tiny opening with his thumb.

Two things occurred simultaneously; Garak's entire body tensed - and his cock stiffened noticeably. Julian stroked up over balls and perineum, across the puckered opening, and back again, and again. Garak groaned with pleasure, but he was still shaking.

"Do you want me to stop, Dragon? All you have to do is tell me," Julian reminded him.

“I don't know," Garak admitted.

"This isn't the first time that - " Bashir began in disbelief.

"No, but not for a long time. Years. My memories are not pleasant ones," Garak admitted. Julian rubbed his partner's back, soothing.

"I'm sorry, Dragon. I won't hurt you. Shall I stop?" Julian asked again. He leaned down to warm his lover's body with his own.

"No."

The word was barely audible. Knowing the Cardassian's fastidious habits, Julian made a quick decision. He reached for a pillow which he slid under Garak to raise his hips. He moved down on the bed so that his head was between Garak's thighs and leaned in, his tongue lightly circling the darkly pigmented opening before he pressed against it and thrust inside.

Garak groaned loudly, his hips rocking against the pillow. Julian made leisurely wet swathes in the same path his fingers had taken earlier, up and back, flicking at the opening with increasing pressure until he penetrated it once again slowly.

A loud wail arose from the Cardassian and he arched back spasmodically, his hands searching beneath him for his cock.

"Elim?" Bashir asked softly.

“No one has ever done _that_ before, j’barra,” he gasped, thrusting helplessly into the sheets.

Julian pressed a fingertip inside. Garak shivered, but Bashir continued stretching the taut tissue. The deeper Bashir invaded, the more purposeful Garak's movements became. Julian began to time his own strokes with his lover, increasing the depth and breadth of his penetration. He was rewarded when Garak gave a throaty growl, coming so forcefully that for a moment Julian wondered if the bed would survive intact.

Garak was still. His strength had deserted him, and he lay shivering in his own pooled wetness. When Bashir tried to shift him, he shook his head.

“I can't move. My arms and legs will not obey," he groaned.

“It's all right, my Dragon, it doesn't matter," Julian smiled, leaning down to bestow a tender, lingering kiss.

No wonder, after what you've been through today, he thought.

Bashir opened the cupboard and pulled out a couple of towels, which he arranged beneath Garak as best he could. The Cardassian still shivered, so Bashir asked the computer to increase the temperature several degrees. He slid beneath the covers, pulling his lover's heavy, limp body into his arms. Garak rested his head on Julian's chest, pressing a soft kiss to the warm flesh.

“J’bra,” he mumbled, "hold me."

Bashir's arms tightened around his partner, petting softly, whispering love words. He listened until Garak's soft grunts of happiness and small stirrings lessened and then stilled. His own eyes grew heavy, and Julian also slept.  
  
                                                                            ***

Garak was having the most wonderful dream. His Julian had come back, and was making incredible love to him. He could feel the younger man's hands on his body, the silkiness of those lips on his cock sucking, licking, making him hard. It seemed quite real.

He came to consciousness slowly, through a haze of arousal. The bed seemed to be rolling, like some storm-tossed body of water. He still half-believed himself to be dreaming, only now he was hearing the sounds of lovemaking as well as feeling his phantom lover's mouth on his cock. A warm hand squeezed him intimately.

"Dragon." The voice was low, rasping. Desperate. Garak opened one eye to see Julian's head between his legs, the young man indeed performing as his dream lover had been. Julian's other hand was jerking his own stiff organ almost frantically. The Cardassian stirred, rising to one elbow.

“J’barra?” he asked softly. Bashir turned his head, and Garak saw that his hunger was upon him. He should have expected it, since his partner had received no satisfaction earlier when he made such exquisite, unselfish love to him.

"I need you," Julian moaned, bending again to strike at one of Garak's secret places. The Cardassian gasped in sharp pleasure. He rose to his knees above Bashir.

Taking control, Garak ran his hands over Bashir's entire body, starting with his skull, down neck and shoulders, across the chest, palms working roughly over sensitive nipples, over the flat stomach, giving the younger man's cock a possessive tug before he pulled Julian's ass up onto his knees.

"What do you want, j’barra? Tell me," Garak coaxed. Julian shuddered, and he was positive it was not from fear.

"Please, Dragon. Now, please," Bashir rasped.

"Tell me," Garak repeated resting a hot palm against the inviting crevice. Bashir groaned, pressing his body down as far as he could. Garak moved the hand away and Bashir snarled in frustration. He looked up into his lover's eyes and almost smiled, blissfully secure in the knowledge that they were once again able to play the Game.

“I want your big, hot dragoncock up my ass. Want you to fuck me," Julian moaned.

"Patience," Garak responded with a smile, knowing that this wouldn't quite be like other times, for he didn't have the heart to tease his lover very long. He sensed a certain fragility to Bashir's emotions, and he had no desire to push him too far. He brought both hands under Bashir's hips, kneading and molding, caressing the areas he had learned were the most sensitive for Julian.

“Don't. Not now, not this time. I don't know if I can bear It," Bashir pleaded.

Garak stroked firmly over the small, delicate opening before pressing in. The rosy pucker seized on the digit and drew it in like a hungry mouth, spasming with need. Julian whimpered as if in pain.

"Elim," he begged hoarsely, a manic edge to his desperation.

"Shhhh." Garak leaned down and brushed the hair back from his partner's face, licking beads of sweat from Julian's forehead. He thrust his tongue into Julian's mouth, taking unquestioned possession. Julian didn't struggle, welcoming the intrusion as he welcomed the finger which was at last buried inside him.

Garak marveled at the silky softness contracting around him, wanting him there so badly. He took a nipple between his teeth, increasing the pressure until Julian moaned in genuine pain, whereupon Garak soothed the abused nub with a suddenly gentle tongue.

"Dragon," Bashir shivered, his body jerking almost convulsively. “Oh, God, please!" He emitted a low, animal sound as the tailor invaded with a second finger, helpless in his desire. Garak believed he was now entering into territory he didn't care to explore with his partner, for this could easily turn into a game where neither won.

"I think you ought to work off some of that excess energy you seem to be afflicted with, doctor. I appear to have lost something, and I'm sure you can help me get it back," the Cardassian relented. He let himself fall backwards on the bed, his strong arms pulling Julian with him so that their positions were nearly reversed.

“Suck it," Garak demanded, stroking his penis, offering the smoky organ to his young lover. Julian fell to his task eagerly - almost too eagerly.

"Julian! Don't pull it off, it won't do you any good that way. Gently," Garak chided, both amused and abused by his partner's haste. “That's better. Oh, yes," he sighed as Bashir began to work his special magic.

"I need you, too. Come, j’barra,” he commanded, making himself accessible to Bashir.

Julian straddled his lover, slowly impaling himself on Garak's shaft until it was fully sheathed inside him.

“Are you all right?" Garak asked softly, stunned by the expression on his partner's face.

"Yes. Everything's all right now." Julian's eyes were closed, a faint smile curving his lips. He arched his back, squeezing the Cardassian, his body slipping into the rhythm which felt as comfortable to him as breathing, joining him to his lover. Bashir's body glistened with sweat, curls plastered to his forehead. A deep sexual flush had spread over the young man's face and torso, nipples swollen, chest heaving.

You are so beautiful. I will probably never understand how or why I bring you to this, I am only grateful that I can. I know that I will see you in my dreams forever as you are now.

Gasping for air, Julian moved off Garak, bending to hands and knees.

"Take me, Dragon. Fuck me," he panted, pulling at his own erect cock. Momentarily, Garak's heart sank. This was not how he wished to remember his lover, for the submissive posture brought back painful, humiliating memories for the Cardassian. But, he reminded himself, Bashir obviously held no such thoughts in regard to him and was offering himself without fear; Julian wanted this, wanted to be possessed in this way.

Garak positioned himself behind Bashir, caught by surprise as Julian pushed back against him, eager to be taken. Garak began to move, stunned at his lover's panicked need of him but wanting to give Bashir what he desired.

“Faster. Harder," Julian croaked in a voice sounding little like his own. Garak didn't understand what drove his partner, but he did understand the unnamed hunger, and knew that he had to meet it. He took complete possession of Bashir's body, ramming into him with increasing ferocity.

Julian's head bent to the mattress, his arms shaking with the effort to hold himself up. Guttural animal noises emerged from his throat, inarticulate sounds, not precisely of pleasure but perhaps of a deeper desire satisfied.

Garak didn't believe he could last much longer, and he couldn't bear to climax without being able to see his lover's face, to know his thoughts. The frenetic energy of his partner had waned; Bashir was probably close to exhaustion. Garak slowed and withdrew, to Julian's instant protestations.

"Hush, j’barra. Come, look at me. Turn to me," he coaxed, guiding Julian onto his back. Garak imparted a slow, sensual kiss of absolute ownership as his hands registered equal custody of Bashir's cock. It wouldn't take much now for either of them, but it must be face to face, with all the honesty they could bear.

Tenderly, Garak pushed Julian's knees up and pressed deeply into him, resting his own weight lightly against the younger man. A long, soft sound of contentment emerged from Bashir and he smiled up at his partner.

"That," he sighed, "feels - perfect. I don't suppose we could stay like this, forever?" he added wistfully.

Garak chuckled. "Easy for you to say," he smiled, beginning the movements which gave the greatest pleasure to his lover. He never thought about his own climax when he coupled with Julian, it came as naturally as taking the next breath. His partner's pleasure released his own.

With each stroke, Julian's muscles tightened involuntarily against Garak's cock, squeezing the firm column and sending an electric shock to his own organ.

“Elim," he whispered, gazing up into sapphire eyes soft with love. His lover's hand began to work his cock, fast enough, but not so rapidly that he couldn't savor the delicious bombardment of sensations. Breathless, dizzy with pleasure, Julian almost didn't realize he had come until he saw the milky fluid splattered on Garak's stomach and felt him holding his soft penis gently, protectively.

Garak groaned, and his pelvis snapped against Bashir's buttocks once, twice, surely no more than three times, and Julian felt the soothing liquid warmth that was his lover, and his love.

Garak was the first to come to himself, gradually easing his body from Julian's. There was no protest. Bashir was mute, his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. It was often like this. The younger man, having ridden the wild torrent of need and desire, was suddenly bereft and as helpless as a child. Garak lay on his back, pulling his lover onto him so that he rested like a babe at its mother's breast. His arms came around Julian, and he held his silent partner tenderly, feeling the rapidly beating heart against his chest. These were the times he felt closest to his lover, able to tell Julian anything.

Usually very quiet and peaceful in the aftermath, without warning a harsh cry escaped from Bashir, and another. Before Garak could collect himself, Julian was emitting painful dry, racking sobs which shook both of them. The young man wept violently, uncontrollably. Garak believed that not all of Bashir's sorrow was due to the lovers' separation and reunion, and guessed that some of Julian's pain stemmed from his relationship with his father, and his knowledge that there was still more to be faced.

"Weep if you must, j’barra. I am here. I am here," Garak repeated, soothing Julian as if he were still the frightened young boy he had once been. After many minutes, the intensity of the spasms decreased and the weeping ceased. Julian lay quietly against his lover, cuddling close, his arms about the older man's neck and his head tucked securely under Garak's chin. Without letting go of his precious burden, Garak reached down to pull the covers over both of them.

“Better now?" he asked.

"Yes. I needed to feel again, with my body and with my heart. Do you know - you're the only person who's ever allowed me to do that," Julian confessed. "I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"I was only afraid I might hurt you. I was afraid you might, after all, want me to hurt you," Garak replied.

"No, love. I knew - I have always known, that you would never really hurt me. Everything was dammed up inside and I was afraid to let go, afraid to feel all the hurt in my life.

“But the happiness far outweighs the pain, Dragon. Outshines it so far that I'll never worry about it again, as long as I have you. I'm safe where it matters, in my heart. Nothing else can ever touch me as you have touched me. I'm not afraid of anything any more," Julian sighed, pressing a soft kiss against his lover's throat.

Along with the overpowering love he felt for Julian, Garak felt an equally strong, if opposite, emotion towards the man who had been the cause of so much anguish to him.

Let him come, this father who is not a father. He will answer to ME with his violence, and I will give no quarter. I will protect you, j’barra, and keep you safe.

" ‘m gonna fall 'sleep, Dra'gn. Too heavy for you," Bashir mumbled, attempting to move off of his lover. Garak held on tight.

"No. You're exactly where I want you to be. Sleep well," he whispered against Julian's hair. The young man sighed deeply.

“J’barra?”

“Yes, Dragon?"

"I love you."

“I know."


End file.
